Package Deal
by Aurum
Summary: Mike needs a hacker and that's what he gets. He doesn't really need a stalker, but it turns out that they're kind of a package deal. .:. Harvey/Mike, Alec/Eliot


Also on AO3 (with a tiny bonus), see the link in my profile.

* * *

**Thursday**

Louis has taken to humming the Harvard song every time he comes near Mike's cubicle. The song itself is not a problem, because by now Mike could sing it backwards in his sleep (although probably not very well). The problem is that Louis is clearly still suspecting something.

Harvey shrugs it off as usual and sends him away with a mountain of papers to work his magic on. Mike wishes he could just stop worrying about Louis, because this is likely to drive him insane. On the other hand, it's not paranoia if they're really out to get you.

The diploma Lola got him is great and he would totally cuddle it in bed and frame it and hang it on his wall if it didn't feel a little dirty. His name in the Harvard alumni database makes him feel warm in his special place. But. He can't help but think that it's not enough. That someone's going to dig deeper. And now that he faked that much, he's kind of on a road of no return. He might as well go all the way.

Alas, his brilliance doesn't extend to computer wizardry. Fortunately, he's not the only genius he knows.

Getting out of the office for lunch is almost impossible for a lowly associate, but Mike's pretty good at the impossible. He has to be back at one (which actually means a quarter to one) to go meet a client with Harvey, but he has enough time for his own appointment.

Mike slips out of the building and goes to a cafe two streets away. He barely has time to make an order before a hand comes down on his shoulder and spins him around. The next thing he knows, he's crushed in an enthusiastic hug.

"Mike, my man!" says the hugger, patting him on his back with rather more force than necessary. "Long time no see. Looking sharp!"

"Yeah," Mike responds weakly, trying to catch his breath. He smiles as soon as he's released from the embrace. "Thanks so much for coming to see me, Alec."

"Sure, man. Just let me get a coffee, I'm still half-asleep."

Mike remembers the time when he could afford to be half-asleep at noon with a certain amount of longing. He goes to find them a table in a secluded corner. Hardison joins him after a few minutes, holding a plastic cup filled mostly with whipped cream.

"You want to catch up first, or straight to business?"

"I... kind of have to be back at work soon. Sorry."

Alec waves a hand. "No problem. I managed to get two weeks of vacation, so we'll have time for that later. What do you need?"

"I need a hacker," says Mike.

The other man smiles widely and sprawls back in his chair. "Then you're lucky. You've got the best there is."

Mike explains the situation over his cup of coffee and then goes to get another one. When he comes back, Alec has a small laptop on the table and he's typing furiously. He gestures for Mike to sit close to him.

A few clicks later his page on the alumni website comes up. A fuzzy feeling bubbles inside Mike. He almost asks Hardison to take a screencap, but that might be a little weird.

Alec hums approvingly. "Seems legit. But..." He resumes typing. The screen is filled with code scrolling faster than Mike can follow. Finally there's a table. The hacker types in Mike's name and clucks his tongue. "Yep, just as I thought. You're in their alumni database, but there's no record of you actually being a _student_ at Harvard. So if someone from the outside tries to look you up, it's all okay. But if the school wanted to verify that..."

Mike sighs. "I'm screwed."

"I wouldn't say _that_." Alec slaps his back. "We just need to feed them your imaginary course records."

"You can do that?"

Hardison scoffs. "Puh-lease. I can make them think you're the heir of their founder, but that might be overkill. We need to make you good, but not so good that people would remember you, right? That's a little tricky, so you'll have to tell me what I'm supposed to put in there."

Mike wants to hug him. Then he remembers that, unlike some people, Alec's not opposed to warm fuzzy feelings and displays of affection, so he does exactly that.

Then he looks at his watch. "Shit, I have to go. Harvey's gonna leave me here if I'm late. Same time tomorrow?"

They part ways near Pearson Hardman, where Hardison hails a cab and pulls Mike into a goodbye half-hug. Harvey's waiting in front of the office. "You're late," he says in greeting.

"No, I'm not! I'm thirteen minutes early."

Harvey just raises an eyebrow and asks: "Lunch date?"

Mike wishes he didn't feel the need to explain himself. "I wouldn't have to go on lunch dates, but my evenings are full thanks to you."

"As they should be," Harvey says calmly. Then he shakes his head and reaches for Mike's tie, which ended up a little twisted, probably due to all the hugging. "I didn't think you still have to be told to look presentable for clients."

"I know that," he mutters. "But seriously, I wouldn't mind leaving the office before ten once or twice. My old friend's in town and I barely have time to catch up with him."

"Considering your taste in friends, that may be a good thing."

Now that's just unfair. "Alec's not Trevor. He's not the kind to get in trouble. Well, at least not the kind to get _me_ in trouble."

"I hope so. You manage to get in trouble perfectly well on your own. Now, are you finally ready to go?"

Mike nods and gets in the car.

**Friday**

Fridays are not Mike's best days in general, and this one is shaping up to be particularly miserable from the very start. The amount of work he has to do before lunch is daunting to say the least. Thankfully nobody bothers him at his cubicle, though that's probably because nobody can actually see him from behind the stacks of briefs he has to proof. He makes the last sweep with a highlighter at 11:52, hurriedly gathers Harvey's files in his hands and makes the trek to Donna's desk.

"Hi, Donna. Can you give these to Harvey?"

"You don't want to go in there by yourself? I think he's in a pretty good mood." Mike casts a glance towards Harvey's office. It doesn't look any more welcoming than it usually does. "Well, at least he's not in a bad mood," she adds.

"I kind of really have to go now," he says with an apologetic smile. "I'm running late."

"Another lunch date?"

He blinks but doesn't ask how she knows. She's Donna. "Yeah. I'm meeting a friend. I'll be back soon, though!"

He thinks he hears Donna mutter "So much for the good mood," but he's halfway down the hall before he thinks about asking what she meant.

When he gets to the cafe, Alec is already sitting at a table. Or rather lying on it.

"Sorry, I had a late night. Or morning," he says and flops his hand feebly. "Put some coffee in me and I'll be fine."

Mike brings him an actual coffee, but Hardison ruins it anyway by pouring a ton of sugar into it. At least he's more or less functioning after a few minutes.

"Okay, so. Let me tell you, there are a lot of fields to fill in their records. We have to decide what courses you took, in which groups, what grades you got... Want me to pull up some people so we have examples?"

Mike smiles slowly. "Oh, I can give you some names."

After that their productivity is pretty much shot to hell, because they spend the rest of his lunch break riffling through his co-workers' records. Mike is reluctantly impressed and a little disgusted by the fact that Louis got obnoxiously good grades in pretty much everything. As for Harvey, well. Not so much. Seeing the evidence that even Harvey isn't perfect brightens his day a little.

Rachel's grades are more or less what he expected them to be. Good, but nothing special. Apparently she really doesn't test very well, poor thing. He briefly contemplates causing some chaos in Kyle's records, but it seems like a recipe for disaster (even though Alec's all for it and not judging him in the least. It's such a nice feeling.)

Mike doesn't dare look up Jessica. He has a feeling that she would somehow _know_ and not appreciate it.

He leaves Hardison with instructions to get some sleep and meet him there tomorrow. He walks back into the office in pretty good spirits, but of course that doesn't last very long.

Donna accosts him near his cubicle and leads him a room at the end of the hall, which is filled with paper from wall to wall. Apparently he's supposed to go through those old case files to find something that could help Harvey with their new client.

He's overcome with a sense of 'whyyyyyyy?'. All was going well when he left for lunch. He turns a puppy dog look on Donna, but it's useless. She just shakes her head, says "Should've gone in there." and walks away.

Kyle turns up by the door (which can't be on his way anywhere, unless he's going to jump out the window, in which case don't let Mike delay him) and doesn't even pretend not to enjoy his misery. Mike regrets not making him retroactively fail all his exams.

Well, there's just one thing to do. He rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

When he finally gets out of the office at half past eleven, feeling brain dead and looking probably not much better, there's a man standing near his bike.

"Um," Mike says cleverly. "Can I help you?"

The man seems surprised that he's being talked to. (On second thought, talking to suspicious strangers at night might not be the usual practice.) He smiles amicably. "No, no. Don't worry about me."

Mike's worried rather about the possibility that the guy's waiting until he unlocks his bike to club him over the head and steal it. He looks like he could take Mike in a fight with unsettling ease. On the other hand, he probably could've broken the lock with his bare hands, so that would be a weird plan, and Mike can't even muster enough energy to contemplate his other options. He shrugs a little to himself, gets his bike and rides off into the night. Nobody brains him from behind, so he counts that as a win and forgets about the man.

At least until the next day.

**Saturday**

He barely takes a step into Harvey's office on Saturday before he's escorted back out.

"Go pack your little bag," says his boss, patting him on the shoulder. "We're having a field trip."

Mike absolutely does not skip happily on his way to his cubicle, just because he'll spend his working Saturday with Harvey and not sitting there all day. He has some dignity left.

Even Louis, who tries to intercept him in the hall, doesn't spoil his mood. "Sorry, Harvey needs me today!" he says. In a dignified way. Then he looks around his cubicle, forgets what he's supposed to get from there, shrugs and leaves.

It turns out that Harvey's field trip consist of driving around the city in Ray's car and meeting important people. Mike's heart skips a beat every time he's introduced as 'my talented associate, Michael Ross'. He shakes more hands before lunch than he did in the last few months.

…speaking of lunch.

He excuses himself from where Harvey's chatting with a judge in front of the court house and takes out his phone. His call goes to voicemail after a few rings. Spock's voice instructs him to leave a message after a prearranged audio signal (and also to live long and prosper).

"Hi, it's Mike. I can't make it to lunch today, sorry. I'm on the other side of the city with Harvey and..."

He trails off, because something catches his attention. Someone's buying a hot dog at a stand across the street. It shouldn't be suspicious, but…

It takes him a few seconds to recognize the man from the night before. The guy pays for his hot dog, wanders a few steps away and scowls at it. Then he looks up.

Mike quickly turns away and remembers his phone call. "Uh, so. I'll call you later, okay? Sorry again."

He chances a look back, but there's no sight of the man. Mike shakes his head and starts walking back to Harvey. He stops again when he gets a text message saying: 'no prob. back to sleep /o/ call me when you're free xoxo'. Mike barely has time to a huff a laugh when he gets another one. 'maybe hugs without kisses, sleeptexting'. Harvey catches him smiling at his phone and looks unimpressed.

A few hours later, after he meets seemingly everyone who's anyone in the law world and also their moms (no, really, they have tea with a federal prosecutor's mother), Harvey takes him to a talk with his client. It goes well. Mike walks out a little dazed about the amount of money they've just made for the firm.

"Celebratory drinks on me," says Harvey, putting a hand around his shoulder.

Mike hesitates, but only for a minute. Drinking with Harvey is likely to end in embarrassment, but he still can't bring himself to say 'no'.

Sometime later he's smiling at a glass of very expensive alcohol. The glass seems to smile back at him.

"You know sooooo many people," he says. His drink doesn't respond, but Harvey does.

"It's important to have connections. And it's never too soon to start wooing the people who matter."

It's possible that Mike giggles a little, but it's only because 'wooing' is a funny word. "You're good at this. But not me. I can't woooooo."

Harvey rolls his eyes, but also smiles, so it's all good. It's nice when Harvey smiles. "You'll learn. Besides, you _care_ about people, right? That should help."

Mike just hums and slides a little lower in his chair. It's a comfy chair, but it might be even better if he sits sideways or something. He tries that without much success.

"Alright, I think you've had enough for today." Harvey flags down a waitress, pays and stands up. "Let's get you home."

"Your home?" Mike asks, smiling widely. "It's very nice. I bet it's even nicer when you go deeper."

Harvey looks at him for a long minute and sighs. "It is, but no. You need to get some sleep. At your place. Come on."

An elevator ride never seemed like such an _adventure_. Harvey doesn't let him press all the buttons, though.

"I need to call Alec," he remembers suddenly and fumbles for his phone.

Harvey stills his hands. "Wait until you're sitting down. Or better yet, until you're sober."

"He won't mind. He's a good friend," Mike says with conviction and steps out on his floor, only slightly unsteadily.

"I'm sure. What's his name again?"

"Alec Hardison. It's a fun name, isn't it?" He grins. "Harrrdison."

"Mm. Where are your keys?"

Mike produces a key ring from his bag with a flourish. Harvey leads him into his apartment and sits him on the couch. "I hope you can take care of the rest."

"Sure!" Mike smiles up at him. "Specter is a nice name, too. I like it."

Harvey just looks at him for a while, again. Then he reaches out and ruffles Mike's hair a little. "Ross isn't that bad, either. Get some sleep, kid."

And Mike totally will, but first — the phone call! The taps 'call' as soon as the door clicks shut behind Harvey.

"Alec! I'm free now. And also a little drunk, I think."

He can almost hear Alec's pout. "Aww man, you went drinking without me?"

"Harvey took me out. Because we were awesome."

"You chose drinks with your boss over me? That's just cold, dude."

Mike frowns a little, confused. "But it's Harvey!"

"Okay, okay, I see how it is." Hardison chuckles. "I'll see you tomorrow. Try to get into bed before you fall asleep."

"I always do!" Mike protests. Then he falls asleep on the couch.

Well, at least it's a nice couch.

**Sunday**

His couch seems a lot less nice when he wakes up with a killer crick in his neck. "Ghhhrm," he says, with feeling. It takes him a few moments to realize that the pounding's coming from the door and not from inside his skull.

He gets up to open it and gets a glass phial shoved into his face. He takes it gingerly and steps aside to let Alec in.

"It's my secret anti-hangover potion," he says, plopping down on the evil couch. "You're the second person who's ever seen it, so feel privileged."

"What's in it?" Mike asks, peering suspiciously at the small bottle. Its contents look like mud, and that's only if you want to be generous with the description.

Alec grins unrepentantly. "You don't want to know."

"Uh, I'm not really hungover…"

"Drink. We need you on top of your game."

Mike gathers his courage and drinks. Then he darts for the bathroom.

"Take a shower while you're there! You'll thank me later!"

Despite looking terrible, tasting even worse and possibly being a recipe from the Harry Potter books, the potion stays down and works its magic. Mike exits the bathroom half an hour later feeling like a new man.

"I think I love you," he announces.

Alec, who somehow managed to find enough space on the table for two laptops, pats the place beside him. "'Course you do. Now sit your ass. I figured today's the only chance to work on your fake history for more than a half-hour."

Mike sighs. "Yeah, probably."

"That's a tough job you've got there, man. But it's fun, at least?"

"It's what I've always wanted to do, you know? I mean, for now I'm at the bottom of the food chain, but it's still pretty cool."

Hardison hums a little and types something on his computer. A familiar table pops up. "Nice people?"

It's a funny question, because people don't usually accuse lawyers of being _nice_. Mike snorts. "Most of them are assholes, or scary. But there are a few nice people."

"Like your boss?"

"Harvey? He's not _nice_. Not unless he's charming a client. But he's pretty awesome, yeah."

"Mhmm, I figured," Alec says and hands him the laptop. "Okay, here. The entries I pulled up, the course list and so on. Let's finish making up your history, then I'll figure out a bulletproof way to plant it in their database, and we'll get to spend your lunch breaks playing this cool new game. And by 'new' I mean 'not out yet'. How's that sound?"

Mike beams at him. "Awesome."

They take a break around three. Mike's managed to get through the first couple years at Harvard Law School without sharing almost any classes with his fellow associates (just in case). Hardison declares Mike fit to eat, so they raid his kitchen.

Alec's slurping on his instant ramen when his cellphone gives a ping. He frowns at the screen.

"Something wrong?" asks Mike.

"Somebody's googling my name. Insistently." He shrugs after a minute. "It's not like they'll find anything interesting there. I'm totally boring." He tosses his cell on the couch with an easy grin and gets back to eating.

Mike spends the next hour deliberating if it's okay for him to have an A in Constitutional Law and finally decides that he's overthinking this, just a bit. He makes up the rest of his course records accompanied by the sounds of zombies dying on Hardison's other laptop.

When he's done, he just stares at the screen for a long minute, trying to wrap his mind around all this. Then he hands the computer to Alec. Twenty minutes and a bottle of orange soda later, the hacker says: "Done."

Mike takes a deep breath and lets it out, feeling the mostly Louis-induced stress seep out of him. "Whoa. I owe you. Seriously. Uh, I can pay you..."

Hardison shakes his head. "Nah, man, save your money. You need it for your Gram, right? I'm cool with an IOU. I may need a lawyer someday."

"You're not planning to call me from jail, are you?" he asks lightly, but he's answered with suspicious silence. "…really?"

"That's not the _plan_, but…" Alec shrugs, looking sheepish. "You never know."

"You never— What do you _do_ at your job?"

"No, look, we're the good guys! Seriously. It's like a family business now," he says, smiling fondly. "But you wouldn't believe how many people don't like the good guys. And I've got this friend who's… maybe less than friendly, so. I may need your help someday."

Mike makes a mental note to look into dealing with assault charges. "I'll do what I can. Or I could ask Harvey, though I'm not sure how _that_ would work out." Actually, he _is_ pretty sure.

"I hope it won't come to that," Alec says.

Mike smirks a little. "Well, I think you'll find that I pretty much aced Criminal Law, so…"

Hardison chuckles and slaps him on the shoulder. "See, you're awesome enough for me, dude. Now let's get something to eat."

They go out for dinner, because his fridge contains only some cheese that most likely didn't start off as blue. Mike absolutely does not see a man glaring at him from the shadows of an alley, because he's not insane or completely paranoid yet, thank you very much.

**Monday**

Mike's starting to think there's a Pearson-Hardman bylaw that prohibits being happy on a Monday morning. Every sunny 'hello' is met with narrowed eyes and grumbling. Even Rachel just shoots him a glare and shuts the door to her office. When he greets a pile of papers with a bright "I'll get right to it!" Louis seems beyond suspicious, and Mike would know what suspicious looks like on Louis.

By ten in the morning there are people leaning over the wall of his cubicle, but nobody's calling security, so maybe it's not so much prohibited as very, very unusual. He hums along with his music and ignores them. At least until they start a game.

"He won a lottery," tries Greg. The others let out a collective "Naaah."

Mike sighs a little, because wouldn't that be nice?

Aaron claps his hands. "Oh, maybe he got laid!"

Also a good option, except for the fact that he spent the whole Sunday with Alec. _That_ would've just been weird.

"Yeah, right." Kyle scoffs. "You think he found someone desperate enough?"

Mike's ready to open his mouth and deliver a witty rebuke (well, it'd probably contain the words 'your girlfriend', so maybe not that witty), but Harvey chooses this moment to appear in their area. He raises an eyebrow and turns his head. "Hey Louis, I think your ponies escaped the paddock," he tosses over his shoulder.

The associates scatter to their boxes, shooting wary glances at Mike, as if it's his fault that his boss is a dick. He smiles widely. "What brings you to the pit of paperwork and misery?"

Harvey doesn't give any indication that he's amused, but Mike totally knows better. "Take your paperwork, leave the misery and come to my office," he says and walks away.

Mike hurriedly stuffs his bag with highlighters, trying to look as if that's a punishment and not the best thing that happened to him today, because a) dignity, and b) the other associates' day sucks enough without him rubbing it in their faces. (What, he's a nice guy most of the time.)

"Wait," says Aaron, frowning over the edge of his cubicle, "are we all ponies? I thought that was just Kyle."

Kyle's face is like a delicious cherry on top of an already pleasant morning. Mike strolls into Harvey's office, feeling rather content with his life.

"Sit," says Harvey, nodding at the couch. Mike rolls his eyes, but sits obediently. He'd much rather be a puppy than a pony.

"What do you need me for?"

"Nothing at the moment," Harvey says distractedly, already busy with his own work. "Do whatever Louis made you do."

"You want me to do things for Louis in your office?" Mike clarifies, frowning a little.

Harvey shoots him a look. "If you'd rather go back to your box..."

Mike shakes his head emphatically. Harvey's couch beats the cubicle anyday, especially since he thinks he can hear the wrath of Louis descending upon the associates even from inside the office. He gets the papers out and spreads them over the low table.

Harvey continues to ignore him, up until the point when Mike makes a move to get up. Then he suddenly has some urgent work for him. Mike eyes the file, hurriedly makes up something about the toilet and only mentions lunch when he has one foot out the door. He hightails it down the hall before Harvey can stop him.

Thankfully he's spared Donna's disapproving look, but that's probably only because she's distracted by Harvey's demands to put him through to some undoubtedly important person.

In the cafe Hardison's clicking away on a laptop. A second computer blinks at him from the table. Mike grins and plops down beside Alec.

"Hey man, go get yourself a coffee, I need a minute more with this baby," says the hacker.

Because Mike's gratitude knows no bounds and his love of life is at an all-time high, he gets two coffees and five packets of sugar. By the time he brings them to the table, Alec's swapped the laptops and is frowning at something red blinking on his screen.

"Thanks, I just, uh. I need to make a call, sorry."

Mike nods and pokes at the other laptop. Hardison dials a number and waits. Then he waits some more.

"Hi girl," he says finally. "What're you doing? ...what?" A chuckle. "Better put it back, you know how he gets when... What d'you mean 'not there'? Maybe in the garden? Huh." He pauses. "No, no, it's fine. So we don't have a job or anything? Okay, yeah. I'll leave you to it."

He holds up a finger and makes another call.

"Tell me we don't have a new job," he says after a few moments, ripping a sugar packet. "You sure? 'Cause I have somebody looking up my financials and criminal record, so excuse me for thinking that you pissed off someone new." He huffs and rolls his eyes. "No, I don't know where he is. How do you _lose_... okay, never mind. He'll be back. Uh-huh, nice try. I'm still not coming back earlier. Bye!"

Alec shakes his head. "Seriously, they can't manage without me for a _week_."

"You're in trouble?" says Mike, looking up from the screen.

"Nah." Hardison stirs his coffee. "But someone is, if he doesn't check in soon. And really, man? Really? I give you this beautiful, pimped out baby, and you play minesweeper?"

Mike shrugs. "What can I say, I've got simple needs."

"Uh-huh, like breaking into Harvard."

"Don't tell me that was hard for you."

Alec tries to look stern, but he breaks out into a grin after a few seconds. He bumps Mike's shoulder with his fist. "Shut up and play."

And because Mike's getting pretty good at following orders, he does exactly that.

**Tuesday**

By Tuesday the universe apparently decides that two good days in a row would spoil Mike's character or something to that effect.

Harvey appears to be sulking, although in a very dignified way. Mike's abandoned in his cubicle, where Kyle makes quips about the master getting bored with his pet. He snipes back something about ponies and kettles, turns up his music and sets out to highlight the shit out of some briefs.

He's interrupted by a call from Donna, who sends him to the mailroom, because Harvey's waiting for something and his impatience is making him insufferable. Mike puts down the highlighter, grateful for the break and the opportunity to chat with Janine the postmaster.

Except when he gets there, Janine's already talking to somebody and looking quite happy about it. He pouts a little, feeling betrayed, but that lasts only a moment until he gets a second look at the guy.

He's leaning casually against a mail cart, giving the impression of being perfectly innocent, but Mike totally knows better. Then he turns a little and smiles, as if he hadn't just spent almost a week stalking the associate. Mike freezes, realizing that what once passed for a friendly smile (probably due to his frying brain cells and less than ideal lighting) is actually more than a little terrifying.

He vaguely remembers asking Janine about the thing for Harvey, which isn't there yet, and taking the elevator to his floor. Donna takes one look at him, raises an eyebrow and waves him through to the office.

Harvey looks up from his work when Mike flops numbly onto the couch and says: "Louis is trying to kill me."

"By means of...?" his boss asks, signaling him to elaborate.

"A man who's been following me around for a week. He's literally everywhere, and now he's our mailboy, so I'm probably going to be dead as soon as I go into an empty bathroom or something."

Harvey scoffs. "Murder's not his style, if you can accuse Louis of having any kind of _style_. He's more into public humiliation, something like that."

Not exactly the words Mike's been hoping to hear, but he's got to admit they bring him the littlest bit of comfort.

"Did you think," Harvey continues, "that this may be related to a case? Or to your friend?"

And as much as he'd like to deny the possibility of the latter, it's actually pretty likely that the people who are pissed off at Alec got interested in him, too. Probably more likely than this being case-related, anyway, since he's not doing anything particularly important on that front.

He's still not ruling out the theory of an assassin sent by Louis, though.

Harvey looks at him for a long moment and sighs. "Alright, I'll take care of the evil mailboy. In the meantime, just try not to go into empty bathrooms. Maybe ask Kyle to tag along."

"You're a real comedian, aren't you," says Mike, trying to sound unimpressed rather than pathetically grateful. His boss just smiles and picks up the phone, making a shooing motion with his hand.

Mike goes back to his cubicle, for once thankful for the fact that he's sharing the area with quite a few people (read: potential witnesses), and that not all of them want him dead. (Probably.)

Getting to the cafe at lunch hour requires the most stressful elevator ride of his life. On the street he gets a few weird looks for trying to walk with his back to the wall. Finally he gets two coffees and slides into a booth which offers the best view of both exits.

Hardison joins him a minute later and stops typing on his netbook barely long enough to say 'hello'. Mike takes a deep breath.

"Okay, I'm not sure if it's just my paranoia, but I think someone's been following me."

Alec just hums at first, but then he raises his eyes from the screen. "What do you mean?"

Mike slumps a little in his seat and drums his fingers on the table. "There's this guy... I first saw him on Friday, he was just standing near my bike. But then I started seeing him everywhere. In the mail room, near my apartment... He was even buying a hot dog in front of the court house." He rubs his face with his palm. "I'm probably just going insane."

"Huh," says Alec. Then he narrows his eyes and starts gesturing. "Is he about this tall? Kind of mean looking? Very nice hair?"

Mike blinks and nods, because even if he was creeped out by this guy just appearing everywhere he went, he still got the strangest urge to pet his hair. His friend rolls his eyes and fishes out his phone. His second call gets picked up.

"You just gonna stand there on the street or you gonna come in for a coffee? How do I— 'course I know this number! Get your ass in here."

It's a bad moment to take a sip of coffee, because Mike promptly chokes on it when his stalker comes in. He's still wheezing when the guy sits down next to Alec and nods his head in greeting.

Hardison scowls at him for a moment. "Seriously? Not even a word?"

"No." The man grins, but it seems less about smiling than showing his teeth.

Alec rolls his eyes again. "Mike, meet Eliot. Eliot, my friend Mike. Though I hear you've already met."

Eliot makes an aborted wave and takes a casual sip of Hardison's coffee. Then he grimaces at it. The hacker reclaims his cup with a frown. "Here's an idea: next time, instead of disappearing on Nate and following me like a spy, you could just, oh, maybe come with me? I just think we'd all be happier, that's all."

"Yeah, I didn't think 'going to visit a friend, be back in two weeks' was an invitation, _that's all_."

Alec just shakes his head, unimpressed. "This is Lucille all over again, huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The fact that you killed Lucille!" he says harshly. Mike can feel his blood leave his face.

It's Eliot's turn to roll his eyes. "I didn't kill—"

"You were jealous of our bond from the start!"

It's possible that Mike misses part of the conversation while he's busy having a heart attack. It must show on his face, because Eliot pauses the argument to huff: "It was a van."

"She was more than a van!"

Mike's still trying to work out if his life is in immediate danger when the universe decides to turn up the fun. His place, chosen in a bout of acute paranoia, grants him a perfect view of the door, so he couldn't miss his boss entering the cafe even if he wanted to.

Harvey doesn't pretend he's surprised to see Mike, he just walks up to their table. "Hello," he says, raising an eyebrow at his associate. "Mind if I sit down?"

Mike scoots over, wishing for the wall to open up and take him to a far-away place where he doesn't have to introduce his boss to his stalker. Predictably, the wall refuses to cooperate. He mumbles his way through the introductions and takes a gulp of his coffee just to have an excuse to stop talking.

Eliot looks at them for a long moment and says: "You should take better care of your boy. Just saying, there are a lot of dark alleys on his way home." And Mike should just give up on drinking if he's going to choke everytime he tries it. He can't even object to being called a 'boy' due to the lack of air in his lungs.

Then there's a hand rubbing slow circles on his back, and it takes him a moment to register that it must belong to Harvey. It almost makes up for the constant threat of death (by Eliot or by coffee). Other than that, Harvey just nods slightly, as if he's noted the advice. "Your friend may want to watch his financials," he says calmly.

Eliot tenses visibly and Hardison, who barely batted an eyelash at the mention of bodily harm in dark alleys, whips his head up from his netbook. "Seriously? First of all, my financials are as clean as an Elven arse. Secondly, are we doing some kind of a macho thing now? Because I don't think that's how normal people do it." Then he scowls and grabs for Eliot, who makes a move like he wants to deal with this in another way. "No, man, sit down! This is why we can't have nice things. Let's just hug it out, huh?" Alec suggests brightly and, undeterred by the crushing lack of enthusiasm from the present company, he throws his arms around Eliot and buries his face in his hair.

It's a bit like watching a trainwreck, except thankfully there aren't any casualties. Eliot tolerates the hug for about three seconds, then he snarls "Enough," puts his hand on Alec's chest and pushes him away. Hardison goes without a fight, looking pleased with himself.

"Look, let's just agree that we're all awesome, right? Nobody has to go to jail, nobody has to die. _Like Lucille._"

Eliot combs his fingers through his hair and scowls. "Let this go, man. I got you a new one."

"Lucille was a van," says Mike, because Harvey looks about ready to call the police. His boss throws him a look, but slides his phone back to his pocket.

Alec doesn't seem like he's done. "Nothing will ever compare to the first Lucille! Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, hers was the most… human."

Mike can feel Harvey relax a little, and it figures that the way into his good graces is through Star Trek references. Eliot apparently isn't much of a fan, though. "I don't understand half of what you're saying."

"Now, see, I know you're lying, because we watched it together and that totally wasn't your first time."

"Huh. It's from the good one?"

"Duh."

Hardison glances at Mike and Harvey, downs the rest of his coffee in three gulps and shuts his netbook. "Okay, time for us. You," he points to Eliot, "have got some making up to do. And you're making dinner. I want the little bits in the awesomesauce."

"That's not gonna happen without my onions," he replies. Then he nods his goodbye and gets up.

Alec turns to Mike. "Okay, man, I'll call you later. I'm glad we had this talk, you know? A word of warning about the jealous boyfriend would've been nice, but no hard feelings."

There are many, many things Mike could say to that. What makes it out of his mouth is this: "Uh, I think that's my line."

His friend shrugs and grins, unrepentant. "Fair enough. Nice meeting you, Awesome Harvey. Hardison out!"

There's a moment of silence as they watch Alec catch up to Eliot and complain about onions. Finally, Harvey turns to Mike. "Remind me, what was that about your friend and trouble?"

"What was with the 'jealous boyfriend' act?" he fires back.

Harvey scoffs. "Jealous? Hardly. Understandably concerned about your choices in friends, yes."

And Mike knows he'll never live it down, but more importantly: "That's the part you object to? The 'jealous' part?"

"For a genius, you're pretty dense at times, aren't you?"

"But... you never..."

Harvey shakes his head a little and smirks. "You know it's bad form to make a pass at your subordinate, right?" He gets up. "Come on, your lunch break's over."

Mike scrambles out of the booth. "What about hitting on your boss?"

"Hm. I'd have to ask Jessica."

Hopefully that's not going to happen, since that talk would only end in tears and possible harassment suits. Mike's pretty sure what _is_ going to happen, though, and it makes him grin all the way back to Pearson-Hardman.

The day is definitely looking up.

**Wednesday**

Mike wakes up to an insistent beeping. He grumbles a little and fumbles for the nightstand. It fails to materialize under his hand. Grumbling with more feeling, he rolls to the edge of the bed and feels about on the floor. Finally the search yields his pants, and they in turn provide him with his phone.

Turning off the alarm takes enough time for his irritation to penetrate the sleepy haze and he becomes aware of a few things. First: there's the sound of a shower, but it's lacking the usual screech of the pipes. Second: trying to roll about in his bed would most likely result in hitting his head on the nightstand and falling onto the floor with a concussion. Which didn't happen.

Conclusion: he's not in his flat. Huh.

His phone blinks and beeps at him again. Mike glares at it until he gets that it means a new text.

'hi~ we're coming over later, when i wake up. eliot's making lasagne to show he's sorry. you want it, it's the best ever. hope you had a good night ;D'

Mike smiles widely then, because he remembers that he really, really did.

Turns out he only had to make it clear that he wanted Harvey to take him home and be sober at the time. It even got him out of work earlier. If there are any downsides at all to this development, they can wait at least until Mike's done reliving the part of the evening that took place on Harvey's sofa.

He can't even worry about the fact that Alec's probably planning to let himself and his 'less than friendly friend' in to his apartment and take over his kitchen. At least he's going to get a dinner out of it. In fact, he figures he's still well ahead in the grand scheme of things.

He needed a hacker and he got one, no complaints on that front. It almost feels like he really went to Harvard. He didn't particularly need a stalker, but it seems that you can't have one without the other. The stress probably cost him a few years of his lifespan, but it was still a pretty good deal. Especially since he might've gotten himself a boyfriend in the process.

The sound of the shower cuts off. Mike drops his phone and hurriedly tries to arrange himself in an attractive pose, most likely failing miserably.

Harvey emerges from the bathroom slightly damp and wearing only sweatpants. His hair gives off the impression of being combed but not giving a damn about that. Mike doesn't doubt for a second that the whole look is perfectly calculated for maximum impact. It makes his mouth water all the same.

"Good morning," says Harvey. He bends down to kiss Mike and then smirks at his awed expression. "Be in the kitchen in ten minutes if you want to eat before work."

Mike watches him go, because that's a view to remember, and then scrambles to the bathroom. The shower looks more than big enough for two people. He grins, plans for the near future already taking shape in his head.

He'll definitely have to see about getting himself a standing invitation.

(Later Harvey assures him that he's not going to get up at stupid o'clock and make him breakfast every time. Mike doesn't mind all that much.)


End file.
